Forget Me Not
by Arsino
Summary: An apparition visits the Prince of Nemesis. A dedication to love unrequited.


_With Valentine's Day coming up, I wanted to make a little dedication to love. This is a gift to all the lovers who are misfortunate to experience unrequited love. Enjoy! Or maybe more appropriately, weep deeply! _

_PS:Slightly inspired by a song. :) _

* * *

Her laugh proceeds her.

The shrill sound, equal to the shriek of harpie, announces her impending presence, alerting all to prepare for the haughty Emerald. This distinct talent of the female general has been a blessing and a curse, for he always knew when to brace himself for her abrasive tendencies.

Tonight her cackle hangs in the air like a tawdry scent, sickeningly sweet yet intoxicating. Pure femininity saturates the atmosphere, even though the space is cavernous and empty. Her very aurora dominates the room - he feels like he could simply reach out and touch her green dress, even though he cannot yet see her.

Of two things he is sure: The first being he is drunk; the second, she is lurking in the darkness.

He does not like being watched.

"Come out Emerald," he demands. His violet eyes search the black shadows of the empty room, trying to discover her hideout. Faint green orbs are everywhere, but he attributes that to his inebriated state. "I know you are here," he announces loudly.

She laughs again, and he snaps his head to the far end of the room, sure she is hiding in the blackest corner. "Now!" he yells, and his voice reverberates through the room, just like her shrieks of joy had moments earlier.

"My Prince." She emerges, a dark Venus born from the cold blackness. Her full hair falls around her and captures what little light there is in the room, fashioning a type of rudimentary halo around her visage.

She creates a striking image, but her fares are not what he desires.

"I did not ask for your presence," he states stoically, even though pure rage is running through his body. This infernal woman is playing a dangerous game with his waning patience.

"I know, Prince." The Green Emerald cocks her head, appraising him. For once there seems to be a formidable depth to her murky gaze. Her eyes, usually full of malevolent glee, are burdened by a mysterious emotion. She looks almost bereaved. "Diamond," she says, completing his title, yet making the moment seem strangely intimate.

Her image dances before him, even though he knows she is standing perfectly still. The drink he has consumed manipulates his vision, and Emerald seems ghostly, almost ethereal. He closes his eyes hard, violently shutting out the image of the mystical woman.

When he dares open them again, he is astonished to find her closer than he thought. She is practically on top of him. A smell accompanies her, pungent and reeking of dying flowers. The White Prince frowns in disgust.

"I am leaving soon," she says, not in her typical prideful voice. She whispers almost tenderly, as if she has finally accomplished her mission to become his lover. He nods and places a hand on her shoulder, delicately pushing her back. Her closeness is nauseating.

"Then leave," he replies tartly. He is in no mood - or condition - to play the diplomat with her.

"I think," she pauses, reaching out to him. The Prince squirms in his seat, attempting to escape her touch, but she places a cool hand on his cheek. "You will miss me. But how will you remember me?"

"You are speaking in nonsensical phrases. Why should I miss you?" He grabs her wrist and shoves it away. He glowers at her, and she shrinks back. How very peculiar she is acting tonight.

"Will you remember me by my hair?" she asks, flicking the aforementioned mane off her shoulder. He begins to ask what she is all about, but she cuts him off. "Perhaps my voice will echo in the halls of your memory, forever whispering about the memories we share."

He stands to leave, for he has had enough of her drama for one night. Whatever mission she has been assigned to, clearly she is not accepting it well. "I care little for what is causing your current melancholy. Depart in peace," he snaps, taking large strides pass her.

"I will," she calls to him, and he halts his procession. She sounds like a wounded animal caught in the hunter's snare. Against his better judgement, he turns, only to find she is right behind him. A sharp jolt of surprise travels through his nerves. She is being most haunting tonight.

"But before I go," she whispers, soft and sweet. "I want to say this: I hope you remember me for my love." Before he can retreat, her lips are upon his, and -damn the wine! - he is kissing her back for the briefest moment. He pushes her away, sickened that she has found an oppourtunity to take advantage of him.

"Leave!" he yells, and the voluptuous woman jumps in fear. Before she can react, though, the doors to the Great Room are thrown open, and Prince Diamond turns his head to inspect the newcomer. It's the Blue Prince, Sapphire.

"What?" Prince Diamond barks. He stoops slightly, burdened by the weight of his overindulgence in the wine. This evening is proving to be too much for him.

"Emerald is dead," Sapphire says with little ceremony.

Diamond chuckles, a deep and foreboding sound; Sapphire raises his brows in concern. "Emerald is most certainly not dead, perhaps a little deranged, but certainly not dead. She stands just behind me. Look!" He spins a little ungracefully on his heel, his body rocking due to the sudden movement.

Blackness greets the two Princes. Nothing is there but the void of darkness.

Diamond absently touches a hand to his lips, where her touch still lingers. The room is suddenly oppressively cold, and he turns to leave.


End file.
